chapter 5.

ruined hopes

it rained all night without ceasing yet the morrow was serene. nevertheless the odds had shifted. on the evening, thy had not been more than two to one against the first favourite, the duke of st. james’s ch. c. sanspareil, by ne plus ultra; while they were five to one against the second favourite, mr. dash’s gr. c. the dandy, by banker, and nine and ten to one against the next in favour. this morning, however, affairs were altered. mr. dash and his dandy were at the head of the poll; and as the owner rode his own horse, being a jockey and a fit rival for the duke of st. james, his backers were sanguine. sanspareil, was, however, the second favourite.

the duke, however, was confident as an universal conqueror, and came on in his usual state, rode round the course, inspirited lady aphrodite, who was all anxiety, betted with miss dacre, and bowed to mrs. dallington.

there were more than ninety horses, and yet the start was fair. but the result? pardon me! the fatal remembrance overpowers my pen. an effort and some eau de portingale, and i shall recover. the first favourite was never heard of, the second favourite was never seen after the distance post, all the ten-to-oners were in the rear, and a dark horse, which had never been thought of, and which the careless st. james had never even observed in the list, rushed past the grand stand in sweeping triumph. the spectators were almost too surprised to cheer; but when the name of the winner was detected there was a deafening shout, particularly from the yorkshiremen. the victor was the earl of st. jerome’s b. f. may dacre, by howard.

conceive the confusion! sanspareil was at last discovered, and immediately shipped off for newmarket, as young gentlemen who get into scrapes are sent to travel. the dukes of burlington and shropshire exchanged a few hundreds; the duchess and charles annesley a few gloves. the consummate lord bloomerly, though a backer of the favourite, in compliment to his host, contrived to receive from all parties, and particularly from st. maurice. the sweet little wrekins were absolutely ruined. sir lucius looked blue, but he had hedged; and lord squib looked yellow, but some doubted. lord hounslow was done, and lord bagshot was diddled.

the duke of st. james was perhaps the heaviest sufferer on the field, and certainly bore his losses the best. had he seen the five-and-twenty thousand he was minus counted before him, he probably would have been staggered; but as it was, another crumb of his half-million was gone. the loss existed only in idea. it was really too trifling to think of, and he galloped up to miss dacre, and was among the warmest of her congratulators.

‘i would offer your grace my sympathy for your congratulations,’ said miss dacre, in a rather amiable tone; ‘but’ (and here she resumed her air of mockery) ‘you are too great a man to be affected by so light a casualty. and, now that i recollect myself, did you run a horse?’

‘why, no; the fault was, i believe, that he would not run; but sanspareil is as great a hero as ever. he has only been conquered by the elements.’

the dinner at the duke of st. james’s was this day more splendid even than the preceding. he was determined to show that the disappointment had produced no effect upon the temper of so imperial a personage as himself, and he invited several of the leading gentry to join his coterie. the dacres were among the solicited; but they were, during the races, the guests of mrs. dallington vere, whose seat was only a mile off, and therefore were unobtainable.

blazed the plate, sparkled the wine, and the aromatic venison sent forth its odourous incense to the skies. the favourite cook had done wonders, though a sanspareil paté, on which he had been meditating for a week, was obliged to be suppressed, and was sent up as a tourte à la bourbon, in compliment to his royal highness. it was a delightful party: all the stiffness of metropolitan society disappeared. all talked, and laughed, and ate, and drank; and the protocolis and the french princes, who were most active members of a banquet, ceased sometimes, from want of breath, to moralize on the english character. the little wrekins, with their well-acted lamentations over their losses, were capital; and sophy nearly smiled and chattered her head this day into the reversion of the coronet of fitz-pompey. may she succeed! for a wilder little partridge never yet flew. caroline st. maurice alone was sad, and would not be comforted; although st. james, observing her gloom, and guessing at its cause, had in private assured her that, far from losing, on the whole he was perhaps even a winner.

none, however, talked more agreeable nonsense and made a more elegant uproar than the duke of st. james.

‘these young men,’ whispered lord squib to annesley, ‘do not know the value of money. we must teach it them. i know too well; i find it very dear.’

if the old physicians are correct in considering from twenty-five to thirty-five as the period of lusty youth, lord squib was still a lusty youth, though a very corpulent one indeed. the carnival of his life, however, was nearly over, and probably the termination of the race-week might hail him a man. he was the best fellow in the world; short and sleek, half bald, and looked fifty; with a waist, however, which had not yet vanished, and where art successfully controlled rebellious nature, like the austrians the lombards. if he were not exactly a wit, he was still, however, full of unaffected fun, and threw out the results of a roué life with considerable ease and point. he had inherited a fair and peer-like property, which he had contrived to embarrass in so complicated and extraordinary a manner that he had been a ruined man for years, and yet lived well on an income allowed him by his creditors to manage his estate for their benefit. the joke was, he really managed it well. it was his hobby, and he prided himself especially upon his character as a man of business.

the banquet is certainly the best preparative for the ball, if its blessings be not abused, for then you get heavy. your true votary of terpsichore, and of him we only speak, requires, particularly in a land of easterly winds, which cut into his cab-head at every turn of every street, some previous process to make his blood set him an example in dancing. it is strong burgundy and his sparkling sister champagne that make a race-ball always so amusing a divertissement. one enters the room with a gay elation which defies rule without violating etiquette, and in these county meetings there is a variety of character, and classes, and manners, which is interesting, and affords an agreeable contrast to those more brilliant and refined assemblies the members of which, being educated by exactly the same system and with exactly the same ideas, think, look, move, talk, dress, and even eat, alike; the only remarkable personage being a woman somewhat more beautiful than the beauties who surround her, and a man rather more original in his affectations than the puppies that surround him. the proof of the general dulness of polite circles is the great sensation that is always produced by a new face. the season always commences briskly, because there are so many. ball, and dinner, and concert collect then plentiful votaries; but as we move on the dulness will develop itself, and then come the morning breakfast, and the water party, and the fête champêtre, all desperate attempts to produce variety with old materials, and to occasion a second effect by a cause which is already exhausted.

these philosophical remarks precede another introduction to the public ball-room at doncaster. mrs. dallington vere and miss dacre are walking arm in arm at the upper end of the room.

‘you are disappointed, love, about arundel?’ said mrs. dallington.

‘bitterly; i never counted on any event more certainly than on his return this summer.’

‘and why tarrieth the wanderer? unwillingly of course?’

‘lord darrell, who was to have gone over as chargé d’affaires, has announced to his father the impossibility of his becoming a diplomatist, so our poor attaché suffers, and is obliged to bear the portefeuille ad interim.’

‘does your cousin like vienna?’

‘not at all. he is a regular john bull; and, if i am to judge from his correspondence, he will make an excellent ambassador in one sense, for i think his fidelity and his patriotism may be depended on. we seldom serve those whom we do not love; and, if i am to believe arundel, there is neither a person nor a place on the whole continent that affords him the least satisfaction.’

‘how singular, then, that he should have fixed on such a métier; but, i suppose, like other young men, his friends fixed for him?’

‘not at all. no step could be less pleasing to my father than his leaving england; but arundel is quite unmanageable, even by papa. he is the oddest but the dearest person in the world!’

‘he is very clever, is he not?’

‘i think so. i have no doubt he will distinguish himself, whatever career he runs; but he is so extremely singular in his manner that i do not think his general reputation harmonises with my private opinion.’

‘and will his visit to england be a long one?’

‘i hope that it will be a permanent one. i, you know, am his confidant, and entrusted with all his plans. if i succeed in arranging something according to his wishes, i hope that he will not again quit us.’

‘i pray you may, sweet! and wish, love, for your sake, that he would enter the room this moment.’

‘this is the most successful meeting, i should think, that ever was known at doncaster,’ said miss dacre. ‘we are, at least, indebted to the duke of st. james for a very agreeable party, to say nothing of all the gloves we have won.’

‘how do you like the duke of burlington?’

‘much. there is a calm courtliness about him which i think very imposing. he is the only man i ever saw who, without being very young, was not an unfit companion for youth. and there is no affectation of juvenility about him. he involuntarily reminds you of youth, as an empty orchestra does of music.’

‘i shall tell him this. he is already your devoted; and i have no doubt that, inspired at the same time by your universal charms and our universal hints, i shall soon hail you duchess of burlington. don arundel will repent his diplomacy.’

‘i thought i was to be another duchess this morning.’

‘you deserve to be a triple one. but dream not of the unhappy patron of sanspareil. there is something in his eyes which tells me he is not a marrying man.’

there was a momentary pause, and miss dacre spoke.

‘i like his brother steward, bertha. sir lucius is witty and candid. it is an agreeable thing to see a man who had been so gay, and who has had so many temptations to be gay, turn into a regular domestic character, without losing any of those qualities which made him an ornament to society. when men of the world terminate their career as prudently as sir lucius, i observe that they are always amusing companions, because they are perfectly unaffected.’

‘no one is more unaffected than lucius grafton. i am quite happy to find you like him; for he is an old friend of mine, and i know that he has a good heart.’

‘i like him especially because he likes you.’

‘dearest!’

‘he introduced me to lady afy. i perceive that she is very attached to her husband.’

‘lady afy is a charming woman. i know no woman so truly elegant as lady afy. the young duke, you know they say, greatly admires lady afy.’

‘oh! does he? well now, i should have thought her rather a sentimental and serious donna; one very unlikely ———’

‘hush! here come two cavaliers.’

the dukes of burlington and st. james advanced.

‘we are attracted by observing two nymphs wandering in this desert,’ said his grace of burlington. this was the burgundy.

‘and we wish to know whether there be any dragon to destroy, any ogre to devour, any magician to massacre, or how, when, and where we can testify our devotion to the ladies of our love,’ added his grace of st. james. this was the champagne.

‘the age of chivalry is past,’ said miss dacre. ‘bores have succeeded to dragons, and i have shivered too many lances in vain ever to hope for their extirpation; and as for enchantments ——’

‘they depend only upon yourself,’ gallantly interrupted the duke of burgundy. psha! — burlington.

‘our spells are dissolved, our wands are sunk five fathom deep; we had retired to this solitude, and we were moralising,’ said mrs. dallington vere.

‘then you were doing an extremely useless and not very magnanimous thing,’ said the duke of st. james; ‘for to moralise in a desert is no great exertion of philosophy. you should moralise in a drawing-room; and so let me propose our return to that world which must long have missed us. let us do something to astound these elegant barbarians. look at that young gentleman: how stiff he is! a yorkshire apollo! look at that old lady; how elaborately she simpers! the venus of the riding! they absolutely attempt to flirt. let us give them a gallop!’

he was advancing to salute this provincial couple; but his more mature companion repressed him.

‘ah! i forgot,’ said the young duke. ‘i am yorkshire. if i were a western, like yourself, i might compromise my character. your grace monopolises the fun.’

‘i think you may safely attack them,’ said miss dacre. ‘i do not think you will be recognised. people entertain in this barbarous country, such vulgar, old-fashioned notions of a duke of st. james, that i have not the least doubt your grace might have a good deal of fun without being found out.’

‘there is no necessity,’ said the duke, ‘to fly from miss dacre for amusement. by-the-bye, you make a good repartee. you must permit me to introduce you to my friend, lord squib. i am sure you would agree so.’

‘i have been introduced to lord squib.’

‘and you found him most amusing? did he say anything which vindicates my appointment of him as my court jester?’

‘i found him modest. he endeavoured to excuse his errors by being your companion; and to prove his virtues by being mine.’

‘treacherous squib! i positively must call him out. duke, bear him a cartel.’

‘the quarrel is ours, and must be decided here,’ said mrs. dallington vere. ‘i second miss dacre.’

‘we are in the way of some good people here, i think,’ said the duke of burlington, who, though the most dignified, was the most considerate of men; ‘at least, here are a stray couple or two staring as if they wished us to understand we prevented a set.’

‘let them stare,’ said the duke of st. james; ‘we were made to be looked at. ’tis our vocation, hal, and they are gifted with vision purposely to behold us.’

‘your grace,’ said miss dacre, ‘reminds me of my old friend, prince rubarini, who told me one day that when he got up late he always gave orders to have the sun put back a couple of hours.’

‘and you, miss dacre, remind me of my old friend, the duchess of nevers, who told me one day that in the course of her experience she had only met one man who was her rival in repartee.’

‘and that man,’ asked mrs. vere.

‘was your slave, mrs. dallington,’ said the young duke, bowing profoundly, with his hand on his heart.

‘i remember she said the same thing to me,’ said the duke of burlington, ‘about ten years before.’

‘that was her grandmother, burley,’ said the duke of st. james.

‘her grandmother!’ said mrs. dallington, exciting the contest.

‘decidedly,’ said the young duke. ‘i remember my friend always spoke of the duke of burlington as grandpapa.’

‘you will profit, i have no doubt, then, by the company of so venerable a friend,’ said miss dacre.

‘why,’ said the young duke, ‘i am not a believer in the perfectibility of the species; and you know, that when we come to a certain point ——’

‘we must despair of improvement,’ said the duke of burlington.

‘your grace came forward, like a true knight, to my rescue,’ said miss dacre, bowing to the duke of burlington.

‘beauty can inspire miracles,’ said the duke of st. james.

‘this young gentleman has been spoiled by travel, miss dacre,’ said the duke of burlington. ‘you have much to answer for, for he tells every one that you were his guardian.’

the eyes of miss dacre and the duke of st. james met. he bowed with that graceful impudence which is, after all, the best explanation for every possible misunderstanding.

‘i always heard that the duke of st. james was born of age,’ said miss dacre.

‘the report was rife on the continent when i travelled,’ said mrs. dallington vere.

‘that was only a poetical allegory, which veiled the precocious results of my fair tutor’s exertions.’

‘how discreet he is!’ said the duke of burlington. ‘you may tell immediately that he is two-and-forty.’

‘we are neither of us, though, off the pavé yet, burlington; so what say you to inducing these inspiring muses to join the waltz which is just now commencing?’

the young duke offered his hand to miss dacre, and, followed by their companions, they were in a few minutes lost in the waves of the waltzers.

chapter 6.

a complaisant spouse

the gaieties of the race-week closed with a ball at dallington house. as the pretty mistress of this proud mansion was acquainted with all the members of the ducal party, our hero and his noble band were among those who honoured it with their presence.

we really have had so many balls both in this and other as immortal works that, in a literary point of view, we think we must give up dancing; nor would we have introduced you to dallington house if there had been no more serious business on hand than a flirtation with a lady or a lobster salad. ah! why is not a little brief communion with the last as innocent as with the first?

small feet are flitting in the mazy dance and music winds with inspiring harmony through halls whose lofty mirrors multiply beauty and add fresh lustre to the blazing lights. may dacre there is wandering like a peri in paradise, and lady aphrodite is glancing with her dazzling brow, yet an asmodeus might detect an occasional gloom over her radiant face. it is but for an instant, yet it thrills. she looks like some favoured sultana, who muses for a moment amid her splendour on her early love.

and she, the sparkling mistress of this scene; say, where is she? not among the dancers, though a more graceful form you could scarcely look upon; not even among her guests, though a more accomplished hostess it would be hard to find. gaiety pours forth its flood, and all are thinking of themselves, or of some one sweeter even than self-consciousness, or else perhaps one absent might be missed.

leaning on the arm of sir lucius grafton, and shrouded in her cashmere, mrs. dallington vere paces the terrace in earnest conversation.

‘if i fail in this,’ said sir lucius, ‘i shall be desperate. fortune seems to have sent him for the very purpose. think only of the state of affairs for a moment. after a thousand plots on my part; after having for the last two years never ceased my exertions to make her commit herself; when neither a love of pleasure, nor a love of revenge, nor the thoughtlessness to which women in her situation generally have recourse, produced the slightest effect; this stripling starts upon the stage, and in a moment the iceberg melts. oh! i never shall forget the rapture of the moment when the faithful lachen announced the miracle!’

‘but why not let the adventure take the usual course? you have your evidence, or you can get it. finish the business. the exposés, to be sure, are disagreeable enough; but to be the talk of the town for a week is no great suffering. go to baden, drink the waters, and it will be forgotten. surely this is an inconvenience not to be weighed for a moment against the great result.’

‘believe me, my dearest friend, lucy grafton cares very little about the babble of the million, provided it do not obstruct him in his objects. would to heaven i could proceed in the summary and effectual mode you point out; but that i much doubt. there is about afy, in spite of all her softness and humility, a strange spirit, a cursed courage or obstinacy, which sometimes has blazed out, when i have over-galled her, in a way half-awful. i confess i dread her standing at bay. i am in her power, and a divorce she could successfully oppose if i appeared to be the person who hastened the catastrophe and she were piqued to show that she would not fall an easy victim. no, no! i have a surer, though a more difficult, game. she is intoxicated with this boy. i will drive her into his arms.’

‘a probable result, forsooth! i do not think your genius has particularly brightened since we last met. i thought your letters were getting dull. you seem to forget that there is a third person to be consulted in this adventure. and why in the name of doctors’ commons, the duke is to close his career by marrying a woman of whom, with your leave, he is already, if experience be not a dream, half-wearied, is really past my comprehension, although as yorkshire, lucy, i should not, you know, be the least apprehensive of mortals.’

‘i depend upon my unbounded influence over st. james.’

‘what! do you mean to recommend the step, then?’

‘hear me! at present i am his confidential counsellor on all subjects ——’

‘but one.’

‘patience, fair dame; and i have hitherto imperceptibly, but efficiently, exerted my influence to prevent his getting entangled with any other nets.’

‘faithful friend!’

‘point de moquerie! listen. i depend further upon his perfect inexperience of women; for, in spite of his numerous gallantries, he has never yet had a grand passion, and is quite ignorant, even at this moment, how involved his feelings are with his mistress. he has not yet learnt the bitter lesson that, unless we despise a woman when we cease to love her, we are still a slave, without the consolement of intoxication. i depend further upon his strong feelings; for strong i perceive they are, with all his affectation; and on his weakness of character, which will allow him to be the dupe of his first great emotion. it is to prevent that explosion from taking place under any other roof than my own that i now require your advice and assistance; that advice and assistance which already have done so much for me. i like not this sudden and uncontemplated visit to castle dacre. i fear these dacres; i fear the revulsion of his feelings. above all, i fear that girl.’

‘but her cousin; is he not a talisman? she loves him.’

‘pooh! a cousin! is not the name an answer? she loves him as she loves her pony; because he was her companion when she was a child, and kissed her when they gathered strawberries together. the pallid, moonlight passion of a cousin, and an absent one, too, has but a sorry chance against the blazing beams that shoot from the eyes of a new lover. would to heaven that i had not to go down to my boobies at cleve! i should like nothing better than to amuse myself an autumn at dallington with the little dacre, and put an end to such an unnatural and irreligious connection. she is a splendid creature! bring her to town next season.’

‘but to the point. you wish me, i imagine, to act the same part with the lady as you have done with the gentleman. i am to step in, i suppose, as the confidential counsellor on all subjects of sweet may. i am to preserve her from a youth whose passions are so impetuous and whose principles are so unformed.’

‘admirable bertha! you read my thoughts.’

‘but suppose i endanger, instead of advance, your plans. suppose, for instance, i captivate his grace. as extraordinary things have happened, as you know. high place must be respected, and the coronet of a duchess must not be despised.’

‘all considerations must yield to you, as do all men,’ said sir lucius, with ready gallantry, but not free from anxiety.

‘no, no; there is no danger of that. i am not going to play traitress to my system, even for the duke of st. james; therefore, anything that occurs between us shall be merely an incident pour passer le temps seulement, and to preserve our young friend from the little dacre. i have no doubt he will behave very well, and that i shall send him safe to cleve park in a fortnight with a good character. i would recommend you, however, not to encourage any unreasonable delay.’

‘certainly not; but i must, of course, be guided by circumstances.’ sir lucius observed truly. there were other considerations besides getting rid of his spouse which cemented his friendship with the young duke. it will be curious if lending a few thousands to the husband save our hero from the wife. there is no such thing as unmixed evil. a man who loses his money gains, at least, experience, and sometimes something better. but what the duke of st. james gained is not yet to be told.

‘and you like lachen?’ asked mrs. dallington.

‘very much.’

‘i formed her with great care, but you must keep her in good humour.’

‘that is not difficult. elle est très jolie; and pretty women, like yourself, are always good-natured.’

‘but has she really worked herself into the confidence of the virtuous aphrodite?’

‘entirely. and the humour is, that lachen has persuaded her that lachen herself is on the best possible terms with my confidential valet, and can make herself at all times mistress of her master’s secrets. so it is always in my power, apparently without taking the slightest interest in afy’s conduct, to regulate it as i will. at present she believes that my affairs are in a distracted state, and that i intend to reside solely on the continent, and to bear her off from her cupidon. this thought haunts her rest, and hangs heavy on her waking mind. i think it will do the business.’

‘we have been too long absent. let us return.’

‘i accompany you, my charming friend. what should i do without such an ally? i only wish that i could assist you in a manner equally friendly. is there no obdurate hero who wants a confidential adviser to dilate upon your charms, or to counsel him to throw himself at your feet; or are that beautiful in face and lovely form, as they must always be, invincible?’

‘i assure you quite disembarrassed of any attentions whatever. but, i suppose, when i return to athens, i must get platonic again.’

‘let me be the philosopher!’

‘no, no; we know each other too well. i have been free ever since that fatal affair of young darrell, and travel has restored my spirits a little. they say his brother is just as handsome. he was expected at vienna, but i could not meet him, although i suppose, as i made him a viscount, i am rather popular than not with him.’

‘pooh! pooh! think not of this. no one blames you. you are still a universal favourite. but i would recommend you, nevertheless, to take me as your cavalier.’

‘you are too generous, or too bold. no, man! i am tired of flirtation, and really think, for variety’s sake, i must fall in love. after all, there is nothing like the delicious dream, though it be but a dream. spite of my discretion, i sometimes tremble lest i should end by making myself a fool, with some grand passion. you look serious. fear not for the young duke. he is a dazzling gentleman, but not a hero exactly to my taste.’